


Flesh Becomes Water

by poisontaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fathers & Sons, Ficlet, Gen, John POV, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-06
Updated: 2009-05-06
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4931893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's first sight of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh Becomes Water

John expects that Dean will follow Sammy into the surging surf, but instead, he squints into the sun and finds his oldest standing over him, tugging restlessly at the drawstring of his Goodwill trunks. "Dean, quit fiddling with your trunks." He tries not to sound irritated by it, but the kid's only had them about thirty minutes and already he's ripping them apart. Christ.

"Dad?" Dean lets his hands drop to his sides promptly but he stays where he is, rocking from one foot to the other.

"What is it, kiddo?" The 'kiddo' comes out easily, unconsciously, but there's a bit of a sting afterward. It's been a long time since he's called Dean that and he hasn't even noticed until now, this moment.

"Have I been here before?" John looks around. He doesn't even know why; he knows the answer. "No." Then, curious despite himself, "Why?"

Dean shrugs. His naked shoulders are already starting to turn pink. So is the tip of his nose. "I dunno. I just... I feel like I've been here before. Or. Or maybe somewhere like it." Dean looks down, toe digging in the sand. "I thought. Maybe..."

"What, Dean?"

He was thinking he might get a little shut-eye. It was a lark, bringing the boys out to the beach like this. He'd been up all night waiting for that damn ghost to show itself, but it seems like a shame to deny the boys their first sight of the ocean after coming all this way.

"I thought. With mom."

After Mary died, he would've thought he'd want to put as much distance between himself and Lawrence as possible, but instead, they'd been making bigger and bigger circles, hanging around the Midwest like a dog circling its own vomit.

It's taken them a couple years to make it all the way to the coast. Dean mentioning Mary is a little like a ghost appearing between them, the chill and the memories spewing up from the dogged down hole he keeps them in. "You remember that, do you, kid?"

Dean shrugs. It's easy to edit the details of their relationship now, to paint Mary in the hues of a saint and to make their marriage as perfect as it never was. But there'd been some rocky patches, no doubt. Mary had been a hellcat and he had a temper on him and sometimes that got them both in trouble.

But she'd only ever left once. Just once.

"Yeah, your mom brought you to a beach like this one time." John scratches at his beard, wondering if he should shave it off again, now that summer's rolling in, slow and lazy. "Before Sammy was born."

Dean folds down on his hunkers, gritting the dry, glittering sand through his fingers. "I miss her," he says with vicious anger. More anger than John's ever heard him let out about it.

John curls his arm around his son's thin shoulders. "Me too, kid. I miss her, too. All the time."


End file.
